War Child Poem by Silly Artist

Would someone help stop the battle,
I cant hear the sound of my rattle.
There is too much noise,
As I look for my toys.
Beneath the pile of bricks and stones,
I find no toys, just blood and bones.
My mother is asleep with blood on her chest,
My father was murdered and laid to rest.
My tears I must hold,
As I was always told.
Not to cry¦
Martyrs never die.
I may miss my toys,
And all childhood joys.
But no tears should fall from my eyes,
Which have seen broken promises and lies.
Left me alone for a Super Power
Strength of faith replaced by dollar's shower
As I stand clutching my doll,
I hear a shot and see it fall.
Broken in pieces, covered in blood,
My body bleeds, as I fall in mud.
A Zionist Soldier with a smile on his face,
‘It takes more than prayers to win a race